


Claiming Guardianship

by GilornethTheGold



Series: A Light among Shadows [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU Story, Adoption, Adorable!Bilbo, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Dwarves, Father/Daughter-relation, Female Bilbo, Fili agrees with him, Fluff, Frerin is Bilbo's guardian, Frerin survives azanulbizar, Gen, Hobbit, It's really a prolonged prologue, Kili just wants a sister, Minor Character Death, Post fall of Erebor, Rule 63, Story goes a long way, Thorin in for a few shocks later, Young Bilbo Baggins, disregard of canon, dwarven relationships, kind of, messed up timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilornethTheGold/pseuds/GilornethTheGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At her death-bed Belladonna Took asks her closest friend to look after her only child. And Frerin will never neglect that duty. Or so he hopes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is my first attempt in writing for this fandom. I hope you all find this piece worth your time :)

Belladonna Baggins formerly Belladonna Took was the ninth child of Gerontius Took (aka Old Took) the Thain of the Shire and Adamanta Chubb. Her respectable name, long golden curls ( admired for both its length and rare color) and dainty features were the envy of whole Shire. The fiercely passionate nature and the infamous ‘Tookish’ adventurous spirit, flabbergasted the natives of the Shire but they all warmed up to her ( normally) gentle disposition. Many attempts were made to win her hand as soon as she came of age but in vain. All were gently(or not so gently in case of Sackville Bagginses) rejected.

Belladonna was a steadfast and loyal friend but her group of constant companions comprised of very admittedly ‘un hobbity’ creatures including (but not limited to) rangers (the dangerous folk of the wild), the meddling wizard (Gandalf, of course), a dwarf (of particularly cheerful persona which the hobbits were not accustomed to, as the dwarves were contrarily very intimidating) and numerous elves which the Shire had never seen. The keen adventures which Belladonna would have from time to time seemed disconcerting to most of her potential suitors. There would be talk about it for days, notably fueled by Camelia Sackville Baggins or the Miller. It rather tainted her respectable status. Most suitors however remained undaunted (Tooks were prone to adventures after all). Not that Belladonna ever cared for it. She was content in her life alongside her dearest friends, never caring about the hushed whispers following her latest adventure or the occasional scandalous looks her more respectable relatives bestowed upon her. It was therefore an unexpected surprise when one of the smitten suitors finally managed to ensnare the hand of the wild Took lass.

It was none other than Bungo Baggins of the very respectable and much admired Baggins family. Her friends, initially surprised (except the very knowledgeable wizard) were infinitely supportive of the match as young Bella was clearly in love with her beau. How the wild hobbit who loved running amok the rolling green hills of the Shire, exploring the small streams and the thick cluster of trees marking its border, fall for someone who never stepped outside the door of his house, they could never understand. Gandalf, two of the rangers and the dwarf were occasional visitors to Bag-End, the luxurious smial Bungo built for his lovely wife as a wedding gift. Life couldn’t possibly be better when Bungo and Belladonna welcomed young Bellana Baggins in their cozy home. A life of peace and love, worth anything Belladonna could ever wish for.

It however did not last.

The arrival of Fell Winter wrecked Bella’s once happy life into complete havoc. The freezing of the Brandywine brought the bloodthirsty and starving wolves, the omen of imminent death. They ripped and slashed at every object in their path, eyes glinting with desperate hunger. When the rangers came to rescue of the hobbits it was already late. Much of the once evergreen Shire was destroyed. The dead were beyond count. 

Those alive did not remain unscathed; either physically wounded or emotionally scarred for life. The Shire had never seen a winter so bitter nor had the hobbits met creatures of such barbaric nature. Belladonna did her best to contribute in helping the injured Shirelings, having developed survival instincts because her exposure to the outer world. 

This was the time when Gandalf first became accustomed to the resilient nature of the hobbits. Although they faced horrific death and bloodshed for the first time, the hobbits were quick to retaliate. Gradually the wolves were wiped out and spring began to mark its arrival. Slowly but steadily the Shire healed.

Bungo however did not survive that winter, mortally injured while protecting a fellow hobbit. Belladonna, heart-broken and devastated, soon followed him.

While threads of life still lingered, her heart still droned on however dimly, she entrusted her only child to her closest friends. She named the dwarf the guardian of young Bellana as he was the only one present when she took her last breaths.

“Take care of her,” she said while kissing her daughter for the last time.

“Bella, don’t go. Please don’t leave us!” the dwarf cried his constant, cheeky grin replaced by immense grief ingrained in his eyes.

“My part in this tale is over,” Belladonna merely replied. A single tear cascaded over her pale and drawn cheek.

Seeing her friend cast his sorrowful and moist eyes downwards, she attempted to yell in a cracked voice “Stop it, you idiot! Mourn in your ridiculously huge mountain later! Right now you have a child to take care off!”

“I will do my best.” The dwarf replied solemnly, making no pretense to hide the tears streaming down his face. Bella smiled contentedly and lowered his head, whispering a quiet good bye. Those green eyes once filled with life and laughter, opened no more.

“Farewell, dearest Belladonna,” the dwarf sighed, kissing the forehead of the lifeless body. “Be at peace.”

He picked up the young faunt, who was watching her mother intently and planted a kiss on her chubby cheek. He peeked at her face, afterwards. The sight that met his eyes did nothing to lessen his grief. She was so young to lose her parents. So young to be left alone.

Her promised to himself, no matter what he would take care of the young hobbit now. He would fulfill the promise to his friend. Young Bilbo (he could not bring himself to call her Bella or Bellana, it was too similar to Belladonna's name) would never have to feel the loss of her parents. At that point the train of his thoughts was interrupted by a sudden noise.

“Ma sheep?” the young faunt asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“Yes. I am so sorry, my child” the dwarf said, trying to conceal his tears for sake of the young lass.

“Wher ish Da?” the child asked again, innocence shining in her clear, hazel eyes.

“He remains no more.”

“Unca?”

“No young Bilbo. Not your uncle anymore,” the dwarf answered with an effort.

“Then wha?”

“Your _adad_. I am your father now,” he replied gently pulling the child to his chest. Her curly hair tickled his neck as she attempted to wiggle out of his hold.

“My Da,” she said in her turn after a while snuggling closer to the warmth of the dwarf’s body.

A small smile tugged at his lips as they settled near the hearth. Thus when the rangers and the wizard returned from salvaging the Shire, they found Bag-End barer then it ever had been, a lifeless body covered in spotless white linen, their dwarvish friend and the young faunt curled up in a corner, deep in sleep, endless grief etched in the face of the dwarf.

The young hobbit slept on oblivious to the great tragedy that had struck and claimed the lives of her parents.


	2. Da's Young Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo was his daughter now and Frerin would give up his life in order to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a 3-series fic. The story will only make sense if it is done so. Changing tags of the prologue to fit part 1. Mind that Part 1 will follow the life of Bilbo and Frerin before the Quest of Erebor. So they are main characters in this.
> 
> Character ages in rough.  
> Bilbo: 3 years  
> Frerin: 40 years  
> Thorin: 60 years  
> Fili: 15 years  
> Kili: 9 years

The emergence of spring in the Shire was usually marked by the young sprouts of leaves scattered among the numerous branches of the sturdy trees, tiny blooms of wild flowers swaying their delicate heads in the morning breeze and the lilting voices of the song birds rising in the clear, blue sky. 

The desolate gloom of winter lingered heavily in the air that year.

Hobbits however were a very resilient race as the dwarf soon found out. They were willing to put the past behind them however harsh it might have been and to drown the woes of that Fell season. Spring usually meant celebrations, a time for excessive partying and merry making to the hobbits. This time the spring signified healing, restoration of the good lost within the wrecks; and hope. 

The dense and impenetrable slate of winter clouds finally began to thin as the Sun peeked from behind.

The dead were buried together in the outskirts of Hobbiton and the last week of winter was declared to be the ‘mourning week’. The hobbits were not the ones to dwell on death and funerals but this time (as unanimously decided) it seemed important to honor the memories of the fallen in some way. 

Needless to say, neither the dwarf nor the fauntling were seen out of Bag-End during that week.  


...............................

A terrible conflict raged on, in Frerin’s mind after he tucked Bellana in. He could fully feel the burden of his rather impulsive decision now that his heart was somewhat recuperated from the sudden and agonizing death of his friend.

Aragorn and Halbarad along with most of the rangers had already left, tracking down the dens of the winter’s wolves. He knew some of the rangers were posted at the vulnerable borders of the Shire but had no knowledge whatsoever about their names. Gandalf, with his annoying tendency to disappear mysteriously when his wisdom was required, however had mentioned visiting Bag-End in the morning.

Frerin was badly deprived of sleep, yet his mind remained stubbornly awake and conscious.

The dwarf gripped the window sill tightly with unsteady hands, his breathing ragged in midst of the melancholy feelings whirling in his heart. The faint beams of starlight streamed through the circular glass making the shadows seem even more brooding. 

He, Frerin Son of Thrain Son of Thror, Crown Prince under the mountain in exile had become a guardian of wee hobbit lass in less than a week.

How had he agreed to this?!

How in the _whole middle earth_ could he look after a hobbit child?

He knew a little of the culture of the Shire, admittedly from a reliable source. But he knew nothing of parenting. Bellana would soon sense the loss of her parents, keenly. What would he do then?

At least she showed some sort of familiarity to him.

Another thought struck him as he shifted his gaze at a lit candle which dangled dangerously at the edge of the small, round, wooden table placed near the corner by the window.

What’s up with hobbits and their obsession round objects? He shook his head, flicking his blonde hair as he shoved the luminous candle towards the center of the small table (might be called a stool). Frerin allowed himself to ponder over the sudden reflection.

He would be soon summoned back to Ered Luin. The dwarves of Erebor had recently acquired the Blue Mountains. Their position was vulnerable, exposed to any enemy attacks. Taking Bellana there was out of question unless circumstances granted them a peaceful time. 

Which meant…

A sudden sob cut through the tranquility of the night, distracting his train of thoughts. Frerin’s deep, chestnut eyes scrutinized the room intently and fell on the small bundle in the cot at once. 

_She was trembling._

Something stirred within his heart and he reached towards the tiny cot in one swift stride. Gently pulling back the sheets to reveal her tousled curls, he asked softly “What happened?”

“I wan Mama!” an angry reply came back. Frerin grimaced slightly at the anguish apparent in her voice. Silently he reprimanded himself, he had foreseen the current situation to occur and done nothing. 

“You will see her again, one day,” he tried to reassure her but the words fell flat as soon as they left his lips. His shoulders slouched under an intangible burden as bitter tears trailed her puffy cheeks, so full of life at one moment and so pale and drawn in the other. 

How could he comfort her?

“Ma gone,” Bellana returned in a doleful voice trying to speak between her sobs as if providing a reason to her teary outburst. Frerin scooped her up in his strong arms, rocking her gently against his chest. 

“Don’t cry my little Bell. Your Ma wants you to be strong.”

“Wike hewoes in her stowies?” the faunt inquired in a low whisper lessening the intensity of the deluge of her tears for a while. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he saw her furrowed brows.

“Yes. Have I ever told you the tale of how the grandson of Thror, King under the mountain lead his people in a great battle after his own father and grandfather died during that war?”

The tried and tested method of adventure tales to lure a child away from tears. _Works on Fili and Kili well enough,_ Frerin thought and awaited the response of his previously bawling audience.

“No,” Bellana replied, enthralled. His lips curled up as he recounted the tale in his rich voice, embellishing the good portions and glossing over the bad ones. Apparently the method worked on hobbit faunts too.

As her eyes began drooping, Frerin noticed how firmly she had fisted up her tiny palms in his leather shirt, how her head rested in the crook of his neck. How wholly she trusted him. Running his calloused fingers over her smooth cheeks with light strokes, he tried to wipe away the traces of pearly tears staining her face. Why did they distressed him so, the dwarf could not understand.

“Sleep now, little one,” he said placing a kiss on her forehead. “Let nothing trouble you this night.”

Gradually, the sobs ceased and her breathing grew easier. For a moment he wondered with astonishment at his apparent ability to silence a weeping child. He watched over her through the night, a smile lightening up his features. 

_How could he ever think of her as a burden?_

"My Bilbo," he whispered, tracing his finger over the delicate tip of her ear.

She was his daughter now and Frerin would give up his life in order to protect her.  


.............................

“She has grown fond of you,” Gandalf mused, his eyes twinkling from behind his brows. Bellana rushed in like a gust of fresh breeze, her honey-colored tresses matted with twigs and dry leaves, to drop flowers of various shades in Frerin’s lap.

“I know.” He took a small comb out of a pocket and started to straighten the tangles of her hair. 

“That does not concern you,” The wizard stated softly, puffing at his favorite pipe as Frerin proceeded to braid the small flowers in her bouncing curls. Bilbo giggled with glee, thumping her chubby palms together in approval.

“It does,” he replied shortly. Suddenly he felt weary as he looked back at the elderly man behind him. They permitted silence to remain for a while as he quickly finished the braiding, adding a carved bead at the end.

Gandalf glanced sharply at the gesture, while Frerin responded with his own defiant gaze.

“Fit for a princess,” Frerin said as he examined his handicraft with a beaming smile directed at the tiny faunt. He was rewarded with a slobby kiss on the cheek, which surprised and delighted him at the same time.

Gandalf shook his head in amusement then looked at him with a solemn gaze and Frerin understood that the conversation that will inevitably follow would be very trying indeed.

“Bella’s funeral has taken place.”

Frerin flinched visibly. His foretelling powers were definitely improving.

“Soon the question will arise about the welfare of her child,” Gandalf continued placing his pipe aside. 

“She named me the guardian,” Frerin replied testily as if daring anyone to challenge this. 

“Yet you know, you can’t tarry here for long,” The grey wizard responded, abruptly. Frerin’s shoulders slumped downwards as he tried in vain to put his inconsistent thoughts together.

“I know,” he sighed at last. “I can’t stay for long. Neither can I bring her with me. I cannot tear her away from her life in the Shire and expect Bilbo to grow among exiled dwarves. Our kingdom is in disarray, we are still too exposed.”

A short pause followed

“I cannot lead her to danger, Gandalf.” he finished casting his brown eyes down. 

He then looked up expectantly at the wizard, his eyes glimmering in wait for answers to unasked questions. 

The bell chimed loudly informing them of a visitor outside. Gandalf’s beady eyes rested at Frerin’s chocolate one’s slightly before he walked with long, decisive steps (for an old man) towards the round, green door.

Hamfast Gamgee stood at the other side awkwardly. 

“Ah Mister Gandalf sir! Sorry for interruption sir, I told Master Took it would be inconvenient but…”

Gandalf interrupted across this breathless rambling. “Master Hamfast! Kindly state your business.”

Frerin perked up his ears with widened curiosity, edging towards the door.

“Grandma Took invited you sir,” Hamfast’s eyes darted towards Frerin with barely concealed suspicion “To the Great Smials at tea."

“And the Took and Baggins clan too I am sure,” Gandalf replied pleasantly. “Tell them he would be there precisely when he will be needed.”

“Very well, Mister Gandalf.” The gardener of Bag-End said in the deepest voice he could muster and went off.

“I suspect a meeting of some sort,” Frerin said, worriedly as the grey wizard closed the round door.

“We all must expect meetings of some sort from time to time,” Gandalf said in his turn. “But this specifically will concern Bellana. 

“What of her?” Frerin snapped. A lot of nosy people were inquiring after his daughter and it was starting to grate his nerves.

“Keep your calm, Master dwarf. You will need it,” Gandalf replied cryptically and merrily smoked perfectly round smoke rings across the room with his prized and ridiculously long pipe as if there was no worry in the world.

How Frerin wished he could feel the same.

.............................

He silently inspected the large, spacious room they were currently occupying with his keen, observant eyes. Members of two respective clans (Tooks and Bagginses of course) were seated on either side all peering at him with poorly disguised expression ranging from awe to profound suspicion as his gaze swept across them.

The hobbit faunts were in another room of relatively small size under an elderly hobbit named Petunia Boffins. Frerin felt a strong urge to keep Bilbo secure under his arms and had to bite his lip hard while handing her to the fussy hobbit while plastering a fake smile on his face.

He felt amused at those glaring looks the Sackville Bagginses were bestowing him with as if they could intimidate a dwarf. Supper had went quite successful but he did not feel so confident about the current situation judging by the looks of fellow guests. A cup of chamomile tea ( Tooks preferred beverage) and a large platter of various assortment of snacks (freshly baked scones, scrumptious looking muffins and half a fruit cake) were placed on a dwarf-sized (round) table in front of him. 

“I am to understand Belladonna left you in charge of young Bellana?” Grandma Took asked slowly in her soft voice. Her tone however, was one of authority and Frerin knew it would not do to cross her. Wordlessly, he nodded yes.

“Then what have you decided Master dwarf?” She inquired further without beating around the bush.

Frerin could feel the eyes of other guests boring into him. Particularly unnerving glare was of one short hobbit (Camellia Sackville-Baggins) sitting in the corner with whole plate of pastries in her lap. She had a distinctly unpleasant air about her.

“Do you claim guardian ship over the child?” A Baggins solemnly asked before any word could pass his lips.

“Yes, I do,” he replied with determination bracing himself for long explanation. 

The hobbit by the corner exclaimed “A dwarf raising up a hobbit child?!”

“No, I am not going to……”

“What was Belladonna thinking off?” Another voice interrupted.

“Sit down Donnamira!” One of Baggins tried to argue with the fiery Took.

“We ought have been told earlier!” Another shout followed. Frerin carefully placed a muffin in his mouth in the meanwhile watching the proceedings.

“The Sackville Bagginses are to inherit Bag-End. Bellana should live with us!” Every other hobbit shuddered at the thought of Sackville Bagginses bringing up the said fauntling. 

“Ha! It is better to dump her on the road than that!” 

**“Shazara!”** Frerin shouted in a burst of sudden anger, pounding the table with his hand. 

He turned towards Grandma Took positively glowering with anger.“I do not think Belladonna wanted anyone to challenge her decision,” he said slowly but in a clear tone. Such was the power in his voice that everyone of subdued (excluding Camellia, who let out an incensed huff but chose prudently to remain quiet). 

“Master dwarf!” Grandma Took said. “I suggest Bellana remains in the Shire.”

Every hobbit pricked up their ears and tried to get a nearer position inclining towards the two authorities.

“I was thinking along those lines,” Frerin replied facing Grandma Took then addressing others. “I propose that Bellana stays with her grandmother after I return to my own dwelling.

“What about Bag-End?” an impatient voice interrupted him.

“It will be cared for, by the Gamgees,” Frerin replied calmly. 

Another indignant squawk was let out by a Baggins.. “Who gave you the right to decide that?”

“You forget that dearest Bungo and Belladonna left every possession to Bellana.” Isengar Took responded.

“And as her guardian, I can decide who will occupy Bag-End until she comes of age,” Frerin added, grateful for the details Gandalf had ingrained in his mind. He looked at Grandma Took for a sign to go on and at her nod along accompanied by a smile, quickly resumed his speech before any other interlude could follow.

“I will visit time to time during which Bellana and I will stay in Bag-End. I want her to grow among hobbits but her education will be dealt by me.”

Belladonna had once told Frerin of how she wanted her daughter to gain knowledge about the world instead of remaining confined behind the familiarity of Hobbiton. He wanted to teach his young Bilbo about the world outside and ingrain basic steps of survival in her inquisitive mind along with other necessary education.

Frerin could see the disapproving looks of (most) hobbits which made him even more determined to abide by his own rules. Fortunately Hildigrim Took loudly said “Agreed!” before any possible outrage could follow.

“The lass would be just as wild as her mother, mark my words,” a whispered mutter could be heard from the end of room. He tried not to clench his fists and bit his (now bruised) lip once more before continuing in a distinct tone.

“I do not know much about the financial inheritance Bellana has received but I hope it can be regulated by her immediate relatives?”

“It will be done so,” Grandma Took responded in clear approval. Most of the hobbits by now were pleased by Frerin’s terms as they were very formal and clear. The dwarf heaved a sigh of relief; the lessons in diplomacy were paying off at last.

“No one has right to question either my parenting or Bellana’s upbringing excluding her Grandmother. No one has right to question her decisions as she grows up.”

“Very well,” Isembard nodded.

“The sole authority of decision-making regarding her life and future lies with me,” Frerin ended, gratified by how attentively the hobbits had listened to his terms despite occasional interruptions. Meetings of this sort rarely went in a smooth flow if dwarves were holding them.

“When Isengrim returns home, he will draw up an agreement with the terms you have stated. It will require your signature along with others. I think that ends the gathering,” Grandma Took said and the hobbits dispersed.

Bilbo came running into Frerin’s arms and he picked her hugging his daughter with true pleasure. Adamanta Took observed this scene until it lasted, relieved of few reservations she had with a dwarf being guardian of her granddaughter. 

Frerin walked where she was seated, sipping her lukewarm tea, and lowered his voice “I do not mean to put so many restriction on Bellana’s relatives. You are free to make decisions regarding her childhood. It’s just…..”

“I understood your intent, Master dwarf. You need not be concerned about that,” Grandma Took smiled and for a split second Frerin wondered, as he viewed Belladonna's reflection in her mother's apparently grave eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Isengrim Took, Bilbo's uncle is the current Thain of Shire.  
> -Shazara means silence in kuzdul.  
> -Camellia is actually the mother of Otho Sackville Baggins.  
> -I am using Aragorn and Halbarad for this story, though I know the timelines are mucked up already XD  
> -And, Frerin just wants to make sure Bilbo lives a life without interference of her other relatives as Belladonna always complained to him about how it made her life very trying :)


	3. Deeper Insights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring different familial bonds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decides to pop up in this chapter?

Frerin woke up to the chirping calls of thrushes, chaffinches and other birds hopping around in search of grub, the sweet-smelling pollen of newly-opened buds scenting the air, the soft rustle of wind as it entered the window playing with loose strands of his hair, and bright sunshine blinding his eyes as he got up.

How a different morning was it from the home in Ered Luin, where he used to wake up to silent rumblings of rock and feel of cold, smooth stone around him.

Frerin was getting used to a way of life that differed vastly from his own. In just two weeks! He could now understand and relish the sense of safety he felt in the lush green plains and rolling hills of the Shire. The tranquility of this place was all but unknown to him before. The exiled dwarves of Erebor had to endure a harsh life, fighting many wars, striving to find food and shelter and mourning their losses everyday. They were utter strangers to the pleasures of a quiet and peaceful life.

Aule's creations were ambitious and greedy to an extent which had caused their downfall. But these little people cared nothing for gold or precious gems. The Shirelings were content in their own safe haven.

It made him all the more concerned about his daughter and the secluded existence she was living. _She wouldn't have to know the harshness of world outside,_ he decided there and then.

_______________________

"Da goin?" The round, hazel eyes widened in shock as they peered in his own dark orbs.

He had taken her to the Great Smials of Tuckborough. Evidently, to Bilbo's young mind it was just a visit to her grandma. But she had came rushing towards him as Frerin pulled on his dark green cloak.

"Only for a small while. I will return Bell," He gently tried to reassure her.

"Bibbo go wi' ada!" A smile tugged at his lips at her frantic protests. Earlier he had tried to teach his younger daughter to say the Khuzdul name for a father. She had settled on a midway name, however.

Frerin could nearly count the seconds before her round eyes brimmed with tears. 

Sure enough the waterworks started a moment later and his heart went out in the drain.

"Bilbo," he murmured, kneeling down to pull her against his chest. 

"Dun go!" she cried looking up at him. Frerin felt equally distressed at this and tried to harden his resolve. There was no way he could postpone the journey back home. But Bilbo couldn't understand it.

"I am sorry Bilbo," he cradled her in his strong arms, realizing how empty they felt without her tiny form resting in them. "I have to go

"Wuv u," she mumbled between small sobs, resting her curly head in the hollow of his neck as was her wont, tears soaking in his cloak.

A sudden warmth washed over him and he looked down in wonder.

Bilbo had accepted him as her father. As her sole savior and paternal figure, so wholly, that it still managed to mystify him.

"I love you too, my child," he whispered while stroking her cheek gently. Tugging a bead from one of his intricate braids he pressed it in her hand. "And I will always come back."

"Pom ease!" She demanded, the sparkle in her irises dancing bright in midst of pearly tears.

"Tell your grandma to braid it in your hair, okay?" he said kissing her forehead. "This is my promise."

Reluctantly, Frerin let go off her and as he stood up again, he suddenly became aware of the awed (and adoring) glances Bilbo's aunts (Donnamira and Mirabella Took) were giving him. His cheeks flared under such scrutiny but Frerin's head remained high (he was a prince after-all).

"Master dwarf! I wish you a safe journey until we meet again," A soft, gay voice called and for a moment Frerin could have sworn it to be Bella's.

Nodding at Adamanta Took who smiled in return, her grey eyes crinkling upwards as she picked up her grandchild.

"Goodbye Bilbo," he called with a small smile as she waved back furiously. "Mukhuh mabaddakhi ya bunmû Mahal."  
_______________________________

Grandma Took was surprised.

No wait, she was completely stunned, astonished beyond words, utterly flabbergasted as she saw the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Who in their wildest fantasies would have thought that a dwarf could care for an orphaned child with such determination and sincerity? Given that the faunt in question was a hobbit! In her long and adventurous years Adamanta had not been privy to such a sight before.

And young Bella! Her grand daughter was currently seated near the cackling hearth with uncharacteristic silence. Adamanta knew how quiet she had became after the terrible onslaught of winter's demons. Bilbo had been scared of whoever stepped in view, not seeming to recognize the figures in front of her even of her immediate family.

She had warmed up to the dwarf, however. 

Adamanta was immensely relieved by this knowledge. She could finally let go of her initial inhibitions and whole-heartedly accept the decision of her late daughter. 

Hastening to comfort her now whimpering grandchild, she armed herself with a platter of Bella's favorite cookies.

"G'ma!" Bilbo called out albeit in a small tone. Her grandmother raised an eyebrow as the faunt held out a chubby hand not seeming to notice the her favorite snacks placed beside her.

Opening her palm, Adamanta saw it was a silver bead. "Bwaid it?" Bilbo said in a broken tone as she pointed to her golden curls.

Smiling she took the bead and picked up a comb. _The dwarf made a very good father_

Now Grandma Took had only to work out one, minuscule problem . How to braid the short tresses of her grandma which sticked out wildly in every direction, specifically.

____________________________

Thorin son of Thrain was pacing the highest balcony of his mountain, glowering at any (and every) unfortunate dwarf that dared to cross his path. Every half an hour or so the dwarven king would send a guard down to report whether or not a traveler had arrived, unlooked for.

The king was getting incredibly agitated and a tad bit worried. A raven had informed him of a stranger, cloaked and hooded, that had been spotted near the paths leading to the Blue Mountains a day ago. Dwarrow it had said.

Thorin knew it had to be his brother and woe be with anyone who dared to question him in such state. Oh! How immensely glad he would be to see his dear brother again. Frerin had been away for too long a duration and Thorin knew only some pressing worry could keep him away so. Every passing day his heart would feel more burdened and the urge to be with his brother grew stronger  
The three siblings were very close but the two brothers were inseparable

Frerin, however, had wanderlust and could not be kept in one place for long.

The duo varied greatly both by looks and personalities. Thorin had inherited raven-black, wavy hair of their parents and ice-blue eyes; famous of Durin's line. Frerin had the fine blonde hair of their grandmother and brown, soulful eyes of a distinct ancestor. Thorin was reserved and every bit the majestic king. Frerin was free with his cheery smiles and had retained somewhat mischievous streak from their childhood. Thorin had a quick temper and difficult to move when determined. Frerin tended to keep his calm and deal rationally with every situation. 

However they both had the same kind heart below their respective facades, the same concern for their kingdom, the same thirst for adventure and shared same fierce love for their family. They brought out the best in each other or so everyone ,who knew them intimately, stated.

"Your Majesty!" A guard appeared from nowhere and distracted Thorin's musings.

"Yes?" he had to strain hard to keep impatience out of his voice.

"Prince Frerin wishes to announce himself."

He gawked at the guard, dumbstruck for a moment. "Abâd" A well known voice called and Thorin swiftly turned around.

Frerin appeared from the darkened passage without waiting to be admitted, his gleaming mop of hair all tangled and adorned with dry leaves (and a small twig), cloak stained with travel and rather worse for wear, and weariness evident on his murky face. 

Thorin could also see two distant scars on his face which was certainly not there last time. Oh and the left arm was bandaged.

"I must look quite a sight," Frerin said with a wide smile before the two rushed to embrace, the elder not caring at the least for the dirt the younger was trailing all over him. 

"Nadadê," Thorin murmured kissing his forehead and gripping him tight. After a while, Frerin laughingly pushed him away.

"Brother, unless you want to get even more muddier, let me take a bath first!"

"Better get going then," Thorin rumbled as he released him "Before Dis and the boys get a whiff of your arrival."

"Never gets old," The blonde said shaking his head and turning away.

Thorin clasped his arm before he could move any further and peered intently at his form with a gaze that saw too much.

"Sullu iglukhul ya bark ra targ," Frerin said brightly in reply to his piercing look as if he could sense the unspoken question.

"Nadad," Thorin said quietly. Recognizing the tone the younger became solemn.

"Alright! There is much to tell," Frerin said quietly, traces of mirth leaving his face. He knew better than to try and conceal anything from his elder brother.

"I know," Thorin replied, grimly.

"Later then," Frerin responded before moving away. The earlier sense of foreboding shook off. Something of immense value had happened, Thorin could sense that, but it was the poorly concealed sadness on his brother's face that concerned.

He could only hope that things were not too bleak.

The fates toyed with their lives for far too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul Phrases:  
> Abâd: I am here.  
> Mukhuh mabaddakhi ya bunmû Mahal: May we meet again with the grace of Mahal  
> Nadadê: My brother.  
> Nadad: Brother.  
> Sullu iglukhul ya bark ra targ: All is well with axe and beard. (literal: Everything is fine.)
> 
> Things to note.  
> 1\. For Frerin, Bella is Belladonna.  
> 2\. Except for Frerin, Gandalf and some selected few, Bilbo is called by name of Bella.  
> 3\. Thorin might be less harsh and reserved in this series. I always think that Frerin's death shook him greatly and caused him to view life with bitterness.  
> 4\. Before Belladonna's death, Frerin never stayed in Shire for long.
> 
> Do give me your feedback :)


	4. To Confide in One's Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should have known better than to try to conceal anything from the perceptive eye of his elder sibling. Or younger too, Frerin supposed. It was only a matter of time before Dis would come to know each and every detail of his existing plight, and Mahal save him from her wrath when it happened.

"You know you cannot avoid talking to me forever, nadidith," Thorin said as he passed his brother in the royal wing, voice neutral although his eyes crinkled up in mild amusement.

The immediate, indignant response Thorin was expecting came spluttering "I am not avoiding you!" But try as he might, Frerin was not capable of veiling his thoughts and emotions as aptly as his elder brother. The shadow of his thoughts mingled with something akin to guilt, reflected clearly in the chocolate of his eyes.

"It pains me to think you might hide something from me," Thorin said, softly. "You were gone for a long time, Frerin." He did not mention how much worried he secretly was. Frerin had gone inexplicably reserved after his return back to Ered Luin, much of his usual spirits and energy were diminished and his demeanor was solemn and grave most of the time.

The said dwarf sighed and walked inside Thorin's room at his beckoning. He should have known better than to try to conceal anything from the perceptive eye of his elder sibling. Or younger too, Frerin supposed. It was only a matter of time before Dis would come to know each and every detail of his existing plight, and Mahal save him from her wrath when it happened.

Well, no point in beating about the bush as Belladonna used to say.

"While away I made a couple of big decisions rather impulsively," the younger dwarf began "And though I do not regret them nor do I wish to revert them, they do weigh on my mind." Thorin listened with rapt attention, without any interruption and allowing silence to linger while Frerin struggled to find words. 

"I journeyed far along Eriador, joining the rangers on one of their travels. I hoped to visit a very dear friend of mine, as I had not seen her for a long while." Frerin continued without taking notice of the slight flash of concern passing through his brother's face.

"You remember Belladonna?" he asked in a grieved sort of tone though Frerin did his utmost to keep his voice from quavering. Thorin shook his head, wondering how in world could his young brother expect him to keep record of his never-ending list of friends. _Frerin must have more allies than whole of Erebor put together_ "A halfling," the blond dwarf provided with a sigh.

"Dwellers of the Shire?" Thorin asked, startled. He had recently heard of a race who lived in the north west of Arnor, reputed for their ability to stay hidden from prying eyes and love for peace , but not much was known of about them. How Frerin had managed to befriend one, the king for his life could not imagine. Thorin frowned slightly before continuing "The ravens reported that they faced a hard winter."

A shadow passed over Frerin's face, and his eyes darkened . "They did. The country was vulnerable more than it ever had been."

Unnerved, Thorin asked "What happened?"

The hitch in the prince's voice was unmistakable "Wolves came, slashing and ripping everything in their path. The halflings were unarmed, unprepared for such an attack," He swallowed "She did not survive the winter."

Thorin drew a long sigh, extended a hand to clasp Frerin's quaking shoulder, perceiving the paleness of his face. The latter gripped his brother's hand tightly and then said in a subdued, helpless sort of tone "They both died, her husband too. One from a broken body the other from a broken heart"

For all the Durin siblings were accustomed to death and destruction, it always astonished Thorin how they still remained adversely affected by it. Their mother perished at the fall of Erebor, while shielding a fellow-dwarf with her own body against the wrath of dragon fire. The Battle of Azanulbizar, an attempt to reclaim Khazad-dum costed them heavily, inflicting further wounds to their already scarred souls. King Thror was killed brutally and Thrain vanished without trace, overtaken by insanity. 

Their grandmother wasted away from utter grief and devastation. And the siblings were left wholly alone, having no one but themselves to hold on for support.

Thorin found little time for mourning as he now held the responsibility for leading the exiled dwarves. Burdened by his various duties , he rarely had time for his own family in those harsh years. Dis had the added blow of her husband's death due to an unfortunate encounter with a stray orc pack but she at the least had her children to hold on to.

Frerin had no one, nothing to take of his mind from the events following Erebor's fall. Grief and regret always struck him the worst. How he found solace in wandering the wilds, Thorin did not knew.

"I am sorry," Thorin sighed deeply, racking his mind for appropriate condolences.

"Thats not the worst of it," Frerin replied with a feeble smile. "Bella left a child." Thorin stared at him, nonplussed. He could suddenly understand the extent of Frerin's trepidation, or so he thought.

"An orphan?" His brother nodded tiredly.

"Yes. And that's where the exact trouble lies." Thorin could sense hesitation along with defiance in his manner, as his brother shuffled his feet in slight nervousness.

"I.....I took the responsibility.......of looking after her future," his voice shook ever so slightly though he forced his face upwards. "I am the child's guardian now." Frerin watched his brother intently, all too aware of the shock, concern and utter surprise passing through his sharp features as Thorin absorbed this unexpected piece of information. All emotion melted into a blank mask, devoid of any expression, which Frerin knew all too familiarly and loathed immensely, though the ice-blue eyes flashed with evident rage. "Thorin, try to understand....."

"You are not aware of what you speak off," the elder bellowed, every syllable pronounced with anger while glaring down at his brother. 

The blond narrowed his eyes and felt indignation bubbling inside his own heart. "I very well do," he answered coldly, knowing how childish his response was.

"You mean to tell me you are a guardian of a halfling? How can you accept such an absurd proposition?! You are a prince and the heir of a dwarvish kingdom!"

Frerin's voice raised in response although he abhorred ever speaking to his brother in that way "I meant to tell you, that I am a father of a young lass. You would have done the same in my place."

Thorin tried to keep his conflicting thoughts together, not knowing how to react. Outrage and shock overwhelmed him, inducing him to shout vehemently against his better judgement, his usual composure forgotten"I let you satisfy your wanderlust and your foolish whims without ever restraining you. But you still are bound to this kingdom, son of Thrain. You forget and neglect your duty to your people."

"My purpose was to inform you of this situation. But I do not wish to continue this conversation if your are going to react as a typical, rigid dwarf!" Frerin snapped, spinning around and making his way to the door.

Thorin raised a hand to stop him and said "I would like to know how are you going to foster a child living at the other corner of Middle-Earth? How are you going to look after her when our foes are still on a lookout to wipe out our line? " He drew a long breath, trying to contain his temper and spoke in a considerably lower voice. "Brother, we are striving to pull this kingdom together, how are you going to deal with such a responsibility?"

"Don't call _her_ a burden," Frerin said quietly, casting his weary eyes down.

Both brothers allowed the heavy cloak of stifling silence to hang in the air as if there was not a single soul present in the room. This was the usual strategy when either of them got exceptionally angered with the other, the case being very rare so. As always it worked, when Thorin finally accepted what Frerin had told him and the latter understood why his brother had reacted such.

"You must try to understand me nadad!" Frerin finally broke the lingering quiet when he sensed that the other dwarrow's sudden bout of temper had cooled down. "When Belladonna took her last breath, I was the only one present. I could not refuse her any request nor had I any wish to do so."

The older dwarf stood soundlessly for a moment or so. "Are you sure?" he asked, not necessarily requiring words to converse with the other.

"Without doubt," Frerin replied with a small but reassuring smile.

"You are determined, I see," Thorin was now wearing a long-suffering expression "And that is never a good omen." Frerin thumped him lightly (by dwarf standards) on the head, grinning like ear to ear as his slight vexation dissipated, and soon the growing tension between the two brothers faded, quickly as it had risen. "You be able to cope up with it?"

"I will try my best, for the child's sake," The younger replied, earnestly. 

Thorin shook his head, trying to hide a smile. Frerin clearly adored that little thing. Thinking of the said brother as a father was albeit peculiar given that he had not wholly outgrown his childish traits which included impulsiveness and enthusiasm over the slightest thing. "You have grown attached to that child. You talk of her as your own."

"She is more dear to me than any of my own could ever have been," Frerin responded, smiling.

"Then I will like to meet her. I have never seen one of the halflings before."

"Oh, she is tiny and delicate as a new born babe although she has reached three years of age. Her hair is similar to Fili's though slightly darker in color and curls most endearingly. You should see her eyes Thorin, round and beautiful they are almost the shade of emerald. Her spirit can rival our two nephews here, bright and full of life like the sun at midday as it is. She can win over anyone, even you brother, and I mean it!"

"You are rambling," Thorin responded, eyes gleaming with mirth as he waved off his brother's indignant and slightly sheepish expression. He continued,teasingly "But I am quite sure that _your daughter_ is the sweetest, most delightful creature to grace middle-earth."

"Who is uncle talking about?" A confused voice asked from the doorway which had been previously shut. Frerin turned to see the younger of his sister-sons standing by the great, oaken door. He opened his arms wide for Kili to climb into them, being suddenly reminded of his Bilbo back in Shire and Frerin's heart clenched as if a great hollow had opened up in it. 

"Your cousin," Thorin provided, ruffling his nephew's mop of dark brown hair which stuck up in all possible directions.

"Don't want a cousin!" Kili whined, attempting to scowl impressively but all he managed to pull of was an adorable pout. "I want a sister!"

The two brothers exchanged amused glances. "Well then, Bilbo can be your sister," the blond said with a laugh, gently touching Kili's forehead with his own.

"For sure?" the dwarfling asked eagerly, turning to his elder uncle for confirmation. He then hopped out of Frerin's arms and rushed out of the door yelling for his brother.

Frerin groaned in exasperation "I should have know better! No one is going to get a wink tonight."

"Bilbo," Thorin said, thoughtfully "That's her name?"

"It's what I call her," his brother responded.

...............................

"YOU ARE LEAVING?!" 

A voice roared from behind. Frerin winced as he heard Dis rapping sharply on his door. Now was a good time for a convenient hole to appear in a ground and swallow him. Anything better then facing his _dear_ sister and her wrath.  
He opened the door tentatively, stepping aside as Dis crossed the threshold of his the room, seething with evident rage. 

Frerin saw the all-too familiar expression reflecting in her fiery eyes. An avalanche was about to descend.

"Are you out of your mind brother? It's been a month since you last arrived, yet you talk of leaving again?". 

How by Mahal did Dis know that he was about to leave in few days time? Frerin had not even yet informed Thorin about that!

He was in mood for a session of interrogation from his thoroughly aggravating sister, yet she stubbornly refused to listen to his reasoning like any logical person should. He sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. _Dwarves rarely responded to reason and logic._

"I would not leave if it was not necessary. I have other responsibilities than this kingdom too, namad," he said in a placating tone.

"And I for my life cannot guess what they could be," Dis replied rigidly, placing her hands on her waist.

"If you will just let me explain......"

"It's about that girl, isn't it?" She interrupted, tossing her braided tresses back and looking at her brother with a piercing glance.

Frerin groaned in resignation. "How do you even know? Thorin wouldn't....." Realization dawned a moment and he looked at Dis with incredulous eyes. "Kili?"

"Aye. According to my young tykes they apparently have a new sister."

He took his face in his hands, wondering how to make her understand. Informing Thorin was one thing. Informing the youngest of Thrain's, who lashed out a great deal more before paying consideration to the issues under discussion, _was another thing entirely._

The morning passed into midday until Dis was finally convinced of Frerin's dilemma. Her manner softened considerably and she looked at him with surprise, pride, exasperation and (though she wouldn't admit) concern.

"That was a kind thing to do brother," her voice was surprisingly warm. "Though not entirely a prudent decision." 

Frerin was flabbergasted at this response and looked at his sister warily. Dis huffed in reply and began pestering him with questions about Bilbo with a purely excited gleam in her clear, blue eyes.

"Though I admit, I am afraid I may not be able to fulfill my role in her life, properly. I am scared that one day she will feel the need of her real parents and I will not be able to placate her. I am nervous about doing something wrong!" He voiced his inner thoughts, something Frerin knew that only Dis might be able to understand.

"Nadad!" she said taking his hand. "I know you will do your best. The child will never have to feel the absence of her real parents."

Frerin kissed her cheek, gratefully and whispered "You think so?"

"I know so," Dis replied, confidently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Dis being a mother would understand Frerin's decision to become Bilbo's guardian/parent substitute better than Thorin. Thorin still does not approve of this, as he thinks Frerin will be away from kingdom a lot more now but he still accepts it.


	5. The Memories We Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Including Frerin's arrival back at Hobbiton, snippets from Bilbo's life and a surprise for her at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to SilverOakenBranch for being a constant source of support (and exasperation). Apologies to everyone following this story, for delaying this update. And a thousand thanks to those who dropped by to leave feedback :D
> 
> I will recheck this for mistakes later.....bear with me!
> 
> Only one update more to go! Then we will move on to part two ;)

"Gwan Ma?"

"Yes, my little flower?"

Moisture shone in the faunt's round eyes which flickered to a hue of mint green, as fresh dew drops on a blade of grass. She said in a voice that trembled slightly. "When will ada come home?" Adamanta surveyed her grandchild keenly, the concerned expression on her wrinkly features giving way to one of awed surprise. It was undoubtedly Bellana's first coherent sentence, free from any stutter or indistinct mumble.

"As soon as his work is finished, he will back in an instant. He made a promise to you, didn't he Bellana? And dwarves always keep their promises." The elderly hobbit replied with a reassuring smile.

It seemed to work for the time being, as her grandchild went to sleep willingly, without kicking up a fuss as was her wont. 

.........................................

Frerin heaved a sigh of relief as the town of Michael Delving came in view, squinting his weary eyes as they beheld the vast, lush-green landscape of the Shire once more. He shuddered to think of the long distances that laid between the Shirefolk's thriving country and the lost kingdom of Erebor. _If he had to travel along Eriador all that way just to spend a few days with Bilbo, the dwarf would sooner bring her to live amongst his own kin. Or search for a living in the Shire instead._

Frerin quickly dismounted Monty, a much prized creature, and headed for the nearest stables in an attempt to distract his thoughts from retracing the tragic fall of the place he once called home. That was a touchy subject, enough to place him in dark mood for days.

After being certain that his pony was well looked for, the dwarf made his way to Bag-End, mud-encrusted boots kicking at the stray plods of dirt on the path. The dark-green door that appeared round the corner with the glistening brass knob, was a much welcomed sight, and weariness partly vanished from him.

"Morning, Master Holman!" Frerin gaily called out, as he spied the vigilant gardener clipping away at the tiresome weeds in Bag-Shot row with a pair of rusted shears that had seen better days (the dwarf quickly made up his mind to repair them at earliest possible moment). The said halfling huffed a greeting in his conventional way of response and hastily became occupied in the current task, making no attempt at stirring up a polite conversation. Frerin did not hold it against Holman Greenhand. He knew most hobbits in Hobbiton to be greatly distrustful of outsiders and was aware of the fact that behind the gruff outer facade, the gardener had a stout and loyal heart.

The blond entered the smial, expecting it to be vacant and caked with dust. To his greatest astonishment the hobbit-hole was spanking clean, the wooden veneer of the furnishings gleamed as if someone had scrubbed at them vigorously for days and bright flowers arranged in various vases greeted his sight.

But the thing the famished dwarf immediately registered, was the welcome aroma of freshly-made food scenting the air.

"Mrs. Greenhand!" Frerin exclaimed as he spotted the wife of the gardener of Bag-Shot row, knitting quietly in Bag-End's spacious kitchen, seated on a rocking-chair that had previously belonged to Laura Baggins, Bellana's grandmother on paternal side. 

"Master dwarf," she nodded with a beaming smile and was up on her furry feet, immediately. "My nephew told me of your arrival earlier in the day and I dropped by to restock the pantry. You must be hungry after the journey, sir."

"That's very kind of you," Frerin replied, surprised. "And I guess someone has been looking after the smial?"

"Ah, I got my young Daisy to clean it. I hope it is to your liking?"

"I am much gratified," the blond dwarf said, quite taken aback. "But why would you.........."

"Late Mr. and Mrs. Bungo Baggins were very kind to our family, master dwarf. We Greenhands were very fond of the them," Mrs Greenhand explained, dabbing at her moisture-laden eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. "And now when I see you taking good care of their child, it touches my poor heart. So you see we are willing to lend a helping hand whenever we could. And you sir," The hobbit said waving a spoon. "Mustn't be hesitant to ask us for any sort of assistance!"

Frerin stared at her retreating, plump figure long after Holman's wife had gone, struck speechless. After all you didn't get to see such small acts of kindness every day, which were often overlooked by other folk.

His eyes darkened once more, as the dwarf sunk into the armchair by the warm hearth. Most had turned their backs on the dwarrows of Erebor after they were exiled from their homeland, the list of allies had grown thinner by day. Some like Elrond of Rivendell had offered to provide them with food and other necessary provisions, but Thror refused them. The ambitious king wanted weapons and items of warfare in order to reconquer ancient dwarven kingdom of Moria. A plan that had failed, devastatingly.

After the king's demise, Thorin had taken up leadership and the younger followed his footsteps, both yet not of their age. They labored in villages of men to bring something edible on the table for their families and encouraging others to do the same. Food was in meager amount in those harsh years and along with the causalities of the War of Azanulbizar, the race of Ereborian dwarves was nearly wiped out. Their number deteriorated in matter of months, most not being able to endure in that cruel time. Maybe they had become overly familiar with comforts of their mountain and the mighty riches it provided to be ready for surviving the loss. Too vain with their power to know they could be brought low. Too acquainted with safety to remember how to face hardships.

And the dwarves had paid for it.

Finally after spending in long years in perils and suffering, they had been able to take up residence in Blue Mountains. Frerin, leading a band of dwarves in search of a permanent shelter, had found them; empty save for few goblins and were-bats.

A small victory after much hazards and defeats. For their race had suffered repeated heavy blows and they never truly recovered.

.......................................

A small bundle of curls and skirts collided with him as Frerin was about to enter the door, painted scarlet with a silver knob in exact center, to the quiet amusement of the elderly hobbit who answered his steady knocks.

"Ada! You come, you come!" young Bellana squealed, bouncing up and down in state of euphoria. The blond dwarf laughed before taking her delicate form into his strong arms, and rubbing her button nose against his angular one in a dwarven kiss.

"I promised, didn't I, my little gem?" she beamed back in response, fisting her chubby hands in the royal blue fabric of his tunic as if from fear that her guardian would evaporate in air without a trace if she let go.

"Gwan ma cuz me lil fwower. Not ada?" the faunt asked after they got inside, furrowing her brows in confusion. Frerin openly grinned at this, really Bilbo's babbling and her inquisitive but highly amusing questions were endearing, as she spoke with so much innocence and sincerity. He never wanted that innocence to fade from her precious hazel eyes.

"Dwarves treasure gold and gems like we treasure plants and flowers," Adamanta explained, grey eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled.

That led to Bilbo protesting "Fwowers much nice than gold ada!"

"Well, I hardly know enough of plants to give judgement."

The fauntling seemed to contemplate the point and arrived at a decision. "I can show." She tried to hop out of his lap, but Frerin pulled her closer to his chest not at all inclined to let his Bilbo out of sight.

_For it felt undoubtedly good to be with her again._

.............................................

He drew a long puff of smoke, feeling it instantly soothe his ringing nerves and vanquish the urge to kick the place upside down.

Staring glumly at the glowing embers, the dwarf thought profoundly about the dream that woke him up; shuddering as he recalled the recurrent events that flashed so vividly in his mind though many years had passed since they occurred.

_Everything was ablaze with the ball of inferno, seeking to cause utter ruin. The immense shadow of the deadly beast passed over the burning town of Dale, its powerful wings and spiked tail thrashed around relentlessly, destroying and reducing carefully constructed buildings to a heap of blackened rubble. Scarlet flames spouted from the dragon's roaring throat, setting everything in its path ablaze; men, beasts, houses alike._

"No!"

_He stood some distance apart, horror surging in his thumping heart at the terrible sight before him. Thick clouds of smoke filled his lungs, rendering his vision vague as the lone figure gasped for air. Those devastating, heart-numbing visions were forever committed to his memory, things that would haunt his darkest nightmare. Broken bits of debris trailing the ground mingled with ash, a forsaken city of charred corpses, the sound of hysterical screams ringing in his ears. And fire, blazing hot fire._

"Master dwarf?" A soft voice broke his train of melancholy thoughts. "Are you in need of something?"

Frerin looked up, surprise masking his features, just to see Donnamira Took standing by his side draped in a petal-pink dressing gown a worried expression on her face. He shook his head in negative, not trusting himself to speak, hoping against hope that the faint smile on his face would be enough to reassure her.

 _Quite evidently,_ it did not. Who was he fooling after all? The hobbit placed a steaming cup of tea in his unsteady hands. "I know you would rather prefer an ale. But trust me, tea helps to clear up a troubled mind." The dwarf sighed, taking one brief glance at her determined expression, and proceeding to draw a tentative sip of the hot beverage that hobbits were simply obsessed with. _He knew better than to argue with Tooks, who would walk over you in defiance and tie you up in knots if you did not look out._

“Feel better?” The hobbit lass asked, grinning.

“Much better,” he replied. “I think I am beginning to understand why you hobbits consume it so much.”

She merely smiled, then continued to remain silent for a short while. Frerin could sense unasked questions, from the way her brow creased and mouth opened soundlessly before snapping shut again.

“Why did you do it?” Donnamira asked suddenly, seemingly surprised at her own daring.

“Do what?”

“Take in Bellana. Continue to care for her, when you know well enough that we are capable enough of bringing up her up.”

“I made a promise,” he said, solemnly. “And dwarves always keep their promises. Call it a matter of honor, if you will.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yet you were not bound to do that.”

“Bella and I became fast friends since her first adventure outside the Shire. I could not refuse her request or turn back on my word. We always looked out for each other. And I know she would have done the same for me, if she were in my place.” That rendered late Belladonna’s sister speechless for a while.

“If I were to take Bellana along with me to Ered Luin,” Frerin asked slowly, after gulping down the rest of his tea. “Would there be any objections?”

She frowned before answering. "Not many will be merely content to remain silent in case you decide to take her. There will be many objections and outbursts especially from her more respectable Baggins side of family."

Frerin sighed and began fiddling with his pipe. 

"The official way would be to wait until she is of age." Donnamira explained. "Technically you are not allowed to take Bellana to live somewhere else as she is still a child. In the absence of her father you will need the signatures of her Baggins side of family on a piece of paper stating that Bellana will now live with her guardian at his own home. Who will never agree to it. But when she is of age and wants to go with you, no one can object." 

The dwarf turned his face to stare at the moonlight streaming in from a window. "That sounds complicated but quite sensible, I suppose. Anyways I have no plans to take her to live with dwarves while Bellana is still too young."

He began to smoke again and after a while Donnamira bid him goodnight, though she knew all too well that the dwarf wasn't going to get a wink.

.......................................................

_At 5 years_

"Gently push it in. You can do it, sweetling"

"How?"

"Like this," Frerin wrapped his arms around her chubby ones, placing his calloused palm over her muddy hand. Together they placed a single seed into the freshly dug patch of moist soil, which was later to bloom into a lovely rose bush. 

"We did it!" Bilbo cried, a triumphed smile gracing her delicate features. "I planted my first seed! Oh when will it grow, when will it grow, ada?"

"It will mature just as you are growing up, mizim." The dwarf replied, taking up a spade.

"Oh," Bilbo let out a small, disappointed gasp and plopped to the ground. "Can't it grow quicker?"

"It requires to be nurtured, and cared for. And it's a long long process. You have to be very careful around the plants Bilbo, if you don't provide them proper nourishment. Why then they wilt."

"But I will care for it ada. Then it will grow fast!"

Frerin huffed a silent laugh, pressing a fond kiss on her tousled curls.

.......................................................

_at 7 years_

"What news does Gandalf the Grey bear this time?" The blond dwarf asked not bothering to look up, deft hands drawing smooth lines on a piece of parchment with skilled preciseness of an expert. Sketching was another hobby of his, though to Frerin's greatest anguish, he never could spare enough time for it.

"I have heard much and prodded much in business of others. But it all depends on what sort of news you ask of me." The grey wizard replied, in his usual, aggravatingly cheerful way.

"Anything concerning us dwarves." For Frerin was well familiar with Gandalf, who kept many secrets behind his bright blue pointed hat.

The wizard, who was happily blowing luminous blue smoke rings, suddenly looked troubled and ceased smoking. "Does the thought ever occur to you to attempt to reconquer the lonely mountain?"

So utterly stunned was Frerin at this unexpected question, he accidentally split blue-black ink all over his beautiful impression of Bag-End as seen from outside. "Now I have done it." He looked at his ruined sketch in distress and ripped it apart with one swift gesture.

"Now Gandalf," the dwarf said accusingly, maintaining eye contact with the wizard. "Has age finally caught up with your brains? Or is your wisdom hindered by excessive smoking of the Old Toby?"

Gandalf looked at him severely, and blew a smoke-dragon in his direction. Frerin did not even attempt to hide his blatant distaste.

"Ada?" A hesitant voice called from the doorway. Frerin's ever ready smile was back on his face.

"Come here, dear love. See who has come to visit _finally._ "

"Gandalf!" The faunt cried, rushing in the room with an exuberant smile, cheeks flushed with apparent delight. Gandalf was a much favored guest as he could set up the most brilliant displays of fireworks, weave the most magical tales, smoke the best rings and was generally met with much enthusiasm (by fauntlings).

"My young hobbit," the wizard said smiling, ruffling her curls affectionately. Bilbo was quickly developing a strong dislike of that particular gesture, as her face creased up in a frown.

"See what I found!" the young hobbit said leaping away from the wizard's fingers, and displaying a smooth pebble proudly.

"A rock?" Gandalf provided, mirth twinkling in his eyes. Frerin glared at him.

"No, it's a gem. Like one da talks about!"

"It's only a rock, child." Disappointment bloomed on Bilbo's face and reached out for her stone dejectedly. She could be in seventh heavens of delight in one minute and down in the deepest dumps the next.

"It's still a very pretty stone. Better than any gem." Frerin quickly added, observing her considerably lowered spirits.

"Really?" The faunt perked up. "I found it by a pond side. Paladin nearly fell in so I had to pull him back."

"You will make a fine adventurer one day, Bilbo." Gandalf said, which was the right thing to say, as the faunt regained much of her former spirits and her face lightened up with a smile.

Frerin kept his emotions in check before Bilbo was out of earshot and hissed in the wizard's direction. "She will not go on any adventure, you bring about with you. She will stay here in peace and not know any real hazard of the outer world-"

Gandalf replied, completely unruffled. "That is not for you to decide. Bellana's Tookish streak will never allow her to rest in the confines of the Shire. And I wager you are well acquainted with wanderlust?"

Frerin (being a dwarf and one of Durin's folk) remained undaunted by Gandalf's bristling brows. "I stand by my initial stance. You know that I will teach her the basic knowledge about survival. But she will never have to use it."

"We shall see." Gandalf said, enigmatically. And the blond dwarf knew from that moment, that the meddler would take his ward on an especially adventurous venture.

Just to prove him wrong.

....................................................

_At 10 years_

Bilbo couldn't help but feel, a tingle of sheer exhilaration running through her veins as the distant town loomed in the distance. Sure it was just plain, old Bree at the outskirts of the Shire. But it was her first, proper adventure not counting the various rambles she participated in around and out of Hobbiton.

Which often ended up with her being stuck in a tree or her skirt getting tangled in a thorny bush, not to mention the embarrassing number of times she fell headfirst into a rippling brook, too engrossed in her surroundings to pay attention to the path. Although Bilbo had learned immunity from fear of water which hobbits were inclined to have (not considering Brandybucks), in any case.

Bilbo had an amazing tendency of getting out of these minor mishaps. Though the only guilt she ever felt was that the faint creases on her Frerin's face were surely deepening, when he examined her bruises after each unforeseen, and altogether unfortunate encounter.

"What is this place, da?" She asked, for the umpteenth time, dark green skirt trailing after her as she skipped over a deepened rut.

"Just a village where men and hobbits live together. So don't get your hopes high, sniffing for adventures!" The blond dwarf replied exasperatedly, albeit smiling fondly at her eager face. He had planned a small surprise for his daughter, and wondered how she would react to it.

The man at the gate, peered out suspiciously, before seeing the duo halt by. He recognized the dwarf and leapt down to open the creaking door, allowing them in as Frerin tossed him a coin, which was pocketed immediately.

Bilbo stared confused, then apparently the prospect of exploring the new town popped up in her mind. Frerin, who could read her like an open book, instantly tightened his grip on her hand.

"Don't even think about it," he said in a chiding tone. "Lets go get our bellies filled before exploring around?"

She warmed up to the idea, and followed his tracks to the appointed inn, practically bouncing with delight at every step.

The duo made their way to Bree's famous tavern "The Prancing Pony" and entered it. Though for a famous place, the inn was rather shabby with wood nearly consumed by termites on the hanging sign above. The once gold embellished letters were now tarnished and few were missing making the sign read 'he Pacing Pon'. 

"Any dwarf could have done a better job," Frerin thought to himself, mourning in hindsight that he did not make Stock his destination. The best brews of ales, the Shire had to offer it was said.

"Has Gnerri son of Gnor arrived yet?" He asked the innkeeper politely, clasping Bilbo's hand firmly, so she would not wander off as was the natural hobbit fauntlings tendency.

"Indeed he has, Master dwarf." A hobbit piped up from behind the counter, and Frerin stumbled slightly. He had been expecting old Butterbur. He was about to step away from the bar when the hobbit suddenly narrowed his eyes asking. "And what would a hobbit faunt be doing alongside a dwarf?"

Frerin flinched, abhorring the question vehemently. An inquiry he had been answering for years to strangers and was heartily tired off. Although he knew that seeing a hobbit with a dwarf was a novelty but what would dwarrows gain by kidnapping young hobbits and losing the favor of the Shire, whose paths they often used to travel in order to continue on Great East Road along Eriador, Frerin could not for his life imagine.

"I am her guardian," he replied shortly and swiftly searched for Gnerri before any further interrogation could follow. He found his cousin at once, really the intimidating figure he cut was recognizable even in thick gatherings, and went over to table the other dwarf was seated on.

Bilbo who was already rather daunted by the other dwarf was horrified when the said person bashed his head against Frerin's with tremendous force. She was about to jump to her Ada's rescue when out of blue, someone laughed from behind.

"It's alright, just typical dwarvish way of greeting. Nothing to be frightened off." 

Bilbo whirled around, about to protest that she was not all scared, only to see a dwarfling standing by her side. Her mouth fell soundlessly open.

The new arrival seemed a miniature version of her guardian with long, flowing blond locks braided back; the resemblance between them was uncanny. But instead of Frerin's warm brown orbs the dwarf's eyes were a twinkling blue.

"I would rather shake hands," with that she extended one and let out a small squeak as the other engulfed her in a hug.

" _Namad_ ," he whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek. The faunt stood confused as the dwarfling further proceeded to embrace her even more tightly, looming a great deal over her short, flailing figure. Out from a corner of her eyes, she saw Frerin smiling down at the two of them. She also noticed that the other dwarf had relaxed his initial scowl, considerably.

"Bilbo, meet your brother Fili."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets get a few things cleared up.
> 
> -I have no idea if Holman Greenhand had a wife or any children. I only recently came to know of his second name. Thought it was Gamgee all this while XD  
> -In this story, Hobbits coming of age is 30. Dwarves coming of age is roughly about 50. I know Frerin is still young by dwarven standards, but due to fall of Erebor he and Thorin had to mature quickly. I will tweak their ages after a while, not still sure what they should be XD  
> -The years that have passed since fall of Erebor roughly count up to 20. May change this later.  
> -Ered Luin was discovered by dwarves 5 years earlier than Belladonna's death.
> 
> Sorry for making a complete muddle of timelines.


	6. All For Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something compels Frerin to make a grave decision. A decision he will come to regret as soon as he turned away from his daughter.
> 
> Meanwhile Bilbo is left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter! :D To those following AUE, I will try to update few more chapters of it before launching on to part two.
> 
> I will check this chapter for any mistakes later.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

The dwarf woke up with a start in the stillness of night, with ragged breaths and beads of sweat glistening on the creases of his forehead.

 _Just another nightmare. Nothing to worry about_ , in vain he attempted to placate his raging emotions. It took a few minutes for his heartbeat to slacken to its normal rate and the surge of adrenaline to bled dry and he slumped back into the warmth of the linens.

Bilbo, still peacefully sleeping, made an inquiring noise. Frerin shifted to watch her, taking comfort in the faunt's slow, rhythmic breathing and gently tucking her in the crook of his arm.

"It's alright," he whispered. "Everything is fine. You are safe, love, safe and sound with me." But it was far from truth. In his dream he had seen her screaming in hysteria and splattered with blood, clasped in the hole of white monster he had came to abhor with a passion. While the dwarf had been completely helpless, utterly at loss, not knowing how to help her. He had never seen Bilbo in such illusions before. 

_Why would such dreams plague him at such a time? Where he was surrounded by eternal peace and quiet? Why would they show her in such a state?_

_Why?_

A sense of foreboding washed over him, and soon Frerin untangled himself from the soft sheets and gently draped them across the faunt's form.

He needed to divert his attention.

.................................................

_at twelve_

Bilbo woke up in the morning, spirits freshened after a night of untroubled sleep, only to find the bed devoid of a certain warm figure.

She got up at once, all sorts of frantic thoughts racing through her young mind. They always got up together. Ada never left the room before shaking her to consciousness, laughing at the state of her ruffled curls and mutinous face while his golden braids remained impeccable and so did his disposition.

Did he left the Shire without telling her?

No Frerin wouldn't do that. Bilbo berated herself for jumping to conclusions before hastily fumbling with the door. She proceeded to rush out of the room in a flurry of panic quickly heading for the kitchen.

Maybe he was preparing breakfast, first thing in the morning.

But they always cooked the first breakfast together, with her slicing the greens while the dwarf fried two eggs and bacon of precise proportion along with a glass of creamy milk and a thick slice of buttered bread. A swift look around informed her that the kitchen and the pantry were quite vacant.

With trembling limbs and shaking knees, Bilbo made her way towards the door perking up her ears for any sort of sound that would reassure her of guardian's presence.

Nothing……but wait what was that odd scrapping noise coming from outside? Holman snipping at the grass in early morning?

“Ada!” Bilbo exclaimed. "Where are you?" The hobbit quickly groped for the bolt, yanking the door open.

Blinding daylight streamed down at her anxious face, momentarily rendering her vision useless before Bilbo's hazel eyes became used to the glare of the sun. There was her guardian with his comforting and solid presence, sharpening a dagger against an odd piece of flint, seemingly engrossed in his work. 

He looked up at her, dark eyes filled with concern and calloused hands putting away the dagger. Deft hands she knew by every callous, eyes she trusted.

"What happened, child?" Frerin asked and his voice and warmth radiated from his deep throated voice. "A bad dream?"

"I thought you had gone away," Bilbo mumbled quietly, stepping near to where he was seated on a dark mahogany wooden bench placed in midst of thickest shrubbery in the lush garden of Bag End. In hindsight, she supposed the images that her mind conjured up were silly, but what could a child do if it found a parent missing?

Frerin nodded a keen understanding evident in the way he glanced at her, taking in the overwhelming relief etched on her face. Without a word, he took her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her petite form. He understood the fear. The lass had lost her parents at a tender age, a time where no child should be without the comforting shadow of its mother. How could he reprimand her for that, while she was still trembling in his hold? Like a tiny creature, vulnerable and helpless, afraid from its own shadow.

"Look what I made for you," the dwarf said brightly, in an attempt to take her mind of from idle thinking. Bilbo perked up at once at a prospect of a sudden gift. _Fauntlings._

Slowly Frerin brought out an article wrapped in a small piece of cloth that was placed by the side where a chisel and his dagger were dropped onto the grassy floor.

"What is it?" Bilbo asked curiously, unraveling the object. She let a small, wondrous gasp. It was a small blade, small and light enough for her size. A wooden one to be sure but of rather delicate make and was beautifully detailed, the silver paint that coated it glistened in the blare of sunlight.

"You made it for me?" Bilbo whispered, marveling at the blade as if it had been made of mithril itself.

"Do you like it?" He inquired, smiling as he observed the gentle process of happiness rushing through her face and the blooming rosiness of her chubby cheeks.

"I love it!"

Billbo swung her tiny sword, rather clumsily Frerin noted with amusement, and plopped down beside a hawthorn hedge a huge grin plastered on her face. A red-crested robin, who was nesting the thick of the hedge, took flight immediately frantically sweeping it's wings.

She stared after it in confusion. "I heard its call, ada."

Frerin stared at her in blatant surprise. "What did it say?"

"Be mindful." Bilbo replied, brow furrowed.

So her hobbit tendencies were blooming out at last. A small smile of wonder tugged at his lips. The dwarf had often observed his former companion at it, communicating with birds and beast alike without actually moving her mouth.

But to see his daughter show the signs of same abilities, was a novel moment indeed. 

..........................................

Frerin made her another blade, when she passed her seventeenth birthday, of steel with a blunt tip heavier than the one before. Taught her how to hold it upright and corrected her stance repeatedly. Bilbo was no dwarfling and she certainly did not need to concern herself with a real blade before she came of age.

But the dwarf however, had a pair of twin daggers ready to gift her later when she was deemed ready, concealed within the depths of Belladonna's glory box. It was an intricate set, made to match the ones he had recently made for his older nephew.

Bellana's aunts took over where cooking and running of household was concerned. If someone passed by under the hill after taking a turn at Bywater, they could easily perceive the smell of freshly-baked food from Bag End in the initial learning days. Pans and bowls cluttered the smial and the air was an aroma of various smells. The current inhabitants of Bag End became _literally_ drenched in floor till the learning phase remained.

Many hobbits invited themselves and stayed for afternoon tea and supper before getting politely escorted to the door by a frustrated aunt, in order to taste the scrumptious treats and fresh baking that was done in the smial. For it was the time Bilbo learned how to make the perfectly browned scones and perfectly rounded biscuits along with frosted cakes and sweet loaves not to mention the various savory and sweet pies and pastries to perfection, and memorized the highly prized recipes of the Took and Baggins clan. Later she was to be known as an exceptional cook in Hobbiton, knowing the best blends of the palettes of both her clans, and highly esteemed amongst the Shirefolk.

Frerin took the responsibility of education as far as languages were concerned. Bilbo learned Westron to perfection, became a fluent speaker of Sindarin over years (Gandalf and Aragorn insisted and volunteered), and even grasped the basics of Khuzdul (which was largely kept a secret). She had a fair and flowing script and showed an avid interest in poetry and drawing which delighted Frerin, enormously. Adamanta took over when hobbit genealogy and culture was concerned and taught the young faunt how to knit properly, embroider handkerchiefs and table cloth and to make the perfect darn and other sensible hobbit skills.

Gandalf or one of the Dúnedain when posted on the Shire's borders took to staying in the smial with Bilbo when Frerin was back in Ered Luin and detained by his own family and duties. This provided an ample opportunity for the young Baggins to learn about other settlements and old tales and quench her thirst for exciting stories and adventures of the outer world.

And slowly the days passed and Bilbo blossomed into a tween. Frerin's imminent departures always caused trouble and few tear fests, but soon they both began to hope for the possibility that Bellana would soon leave the Shire to be with her guardian whom she held dearest to her heart. Other hobbits knew about this, although there was always gossip and much grumbling at the prospect of losing such a fine lass (but of course she would marry within her own!) but they held Frerin in too much high esteem to outwardly make objections.

As soon as Bilbo turned 25, many of the hobbit lads began vying to attain her attention. She would often be seen in the company of her cousins, Saradoc, Paladin and Primula to be precise, taking part in even more perilous ventures. 

But the dwarf and hobbit were exceedingly joyous and content together in each others company, the bond they shared more intimate and affectionate than any biological father daughter relationship could have been. 

But the years of peace and content were not to last.

Something happened that seek to tear Bilbo away from the loving presence of her guardian. An event she held no memory off. Which drove Frerin to take a drastic decision.

And wrecked chaos in Bilbo's life once more.

............................................

The blond dwarf leaned down ever so slightly, the usual spark dulled by remorse and regret in the dark embers of his eyes, placing the lightest of kiss on the forehead of the sleeping faunt. _No she was not a faunt anymore,_ he reminded himself, but a vivacious lass of 25. One adored by the whole Shire. One that did not require his continued accursed presence anymore.

Willing his heart to toughen, trying to prevent tears of sorrow from brimming his eyes and choking back the heavy lump in his throat, the Frerin made his way to the bright emerald door of Bag End. The drought in the corridor seemed to spread a numbing chill in his very bones, and he glanced at the grate only to see the signature cracklings of a cheerful fire; missing altogether promoting the gloom of the dark.

He propped up his usual pack with one long, leather strap on a shoulder with unnecessary force bidding Donnamira Took, who was wearing a very somber expression, a quiet farewell.

"Until we meet again, Master dwarf."

Frerin did not reply.

..............................................

When Bilbo woke up, she went to Frerin's room as per her conventional way of starting a new day (they no longer slept together due to the bed being too small to accommodate them both). Finding the bed empty and cotton linens neatly tucked by the corners, she went outside in search of her guardian.

"He left without goodbye," she frowned peering at her aunt who appeared to be fast asleep on her grandmother's rocking chair, knowing inadvertently that her guardian had set out for Erebor.

"He couldn't bear to say it."

"But Aunt Donna, Ada was supposed to leave in a week's time!" The Took remained unerringly silent. 

Bilbo stood there, confused, wrapping her skirt closer in order to ward off the chill of Autumn's morning. Maybe something urgent had turned up in dwarven community? Her guardian did hold a position of importance there, she knew. _Important business_ she decided.

_One that required his presence on immediate terms. It had to be. And Frerin would return home in two days time to inform her of it._

The truth did not occur to her until later that night, after long contemplating her aunt's strange silence. When two short prods of a stick were heard on the door, Bilbo knew that trouble was brewing in the eternal peace of the Shire.

_Gandalf. Aragorn. Together._

Both wearing identical expressions of grimness, the usual twinkle of mirth absent from Gandalf's beady eyes neither were there a hint of smile gracing the ranger's thin lips.

Only when Aragorn handed a hastily scribbled note to her, did she understanding the extent of the situation. And proceeded to break down completely in the ranger's steady hold.

"It will be alright, Bilbo" He said gently.

"No," she sobbed. "How can you say that so assuredly, Aragorn? He......he left me! Left me behind......all alone."

The sudden shock bit into her like a sharp knife, forcing her to face the bitterness of reality. _But how on Earth would she endure without him?_

Bilbo was not to see Frerin for a long long time.

Not until circumstances changed. And much happened that they both did not expect. And they grew quite distant from each in the stretch of years, their bond strained and tested by the passing time. 

For better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important notes  
> -In this AU, hobbits can communicate to birds and beasts. You will see more of it in part two.  
> -Some may have noticed that I re-edited a chapter using Arathorn and Haladren as two rangers. Am changing that to Aragorn and Halbarad to final.  
> -The event that made Frerin take such a decision will be covered in second part. It suffices to know that he realized the danger Bilbo was in having him as a guardian, exposed to outer threats and those hunting the line of Durin. It will make sense later I hope when the story begins :)  
> -I will revise and update notes of all chapters in a day or two. The thinking process does take some time.
> 
> Thanks to all for bearing with me!


End file.
